Boxed In
Composed this Level 3 Poem for the Power Up Prompt #25 by Bradley Ramsey. Poem on identity evoking the belief that we have the power to change, grow, and evolve, with a suitable musical pairing.
There is a box I was born in, The named existence, which I did not choose. Life, ensuring that I don’t and will not have much control. It seemed it was taken away, step by step But it was never there. Positioned on Earth, in a body given Context provided for the arc of my character In the novel, being posed as non-fiction… I never had agency. Molded with love, care and some fears, I would pin the fears on gender, But no one really escapes. It added on, with time, with people, Emotions, words, doubts, misconceptions, Beliefs that were borrowed, Thoughts that seemed to be mine But didn’t feel personal. There was language, the use and purpose explained, Yet no expression that felt apt For the whirling needs that didn’t see the light of day. Ignoring and moving forward, Avoiding conflict or confrontation, That, in any case, left me drained. I withered down like a slang, Long forgotten from a classic language. Rites were passed, with purpose That seemed sufficient then. Forging ahead, uncertainty pocketed Relationships formed, without one with myself. I understood mostly. The world sometimes made sense. People were placed within categories in my head. I figured I knew, the black and white approach works, Shockingly, I got to know I could have a mind of my own. I was writing before, Unbeknownst, that I haven’t yet Met the ‘me’ within. Change was a staple, within, outside To my body, my mind Thinking that developed Questions that formed, okay with No satisfactory answers in sight. The disturbance humming low Suddenly gained epic proportions No longer able to contain within Standard procedures and order. It wasn’t sudden in its lame standard meaning ‘Sudden’ in the way that epiphanies feel, Before and after. Sudden enough that one couldn’t sleep Couldn’t remain still, stagnating where I was Content with the ‘me’ That I never seemed to have formed. Reason storming its way through the chinks Within the order Tethered together with weak strings of ‘That’s how it is done, how it works’, Was never meant to look pretty. The shedding started, not from the beginning… I wasn’t that bold…yet. It was fundamental. I can change I am not special I am not alone Even if the box was provided I was a being that could still choose. Agency could be created, Limited means are still means, Leading to who I wish and want to be. Nothing is perfect, what I desired for sanity, Was never imbued in order. It was the chaos, that was often avoided – still is, Chaos from questioning, complaining, demanding, Wanting, expressing, creating and destroying. The box doesn’t sustain With a barrage of ‘I’s within… It’s a myth, foretold to maintain semblance, For whom, I do not know. What works for convenience, Often kills something essential. I am still pretending that I know Like I long pretended knowing what every orifice of my body does Like I posed, being together, pleasingly arranged, Upheld by conditioning, ‘Functioning’ like others, While grappling with the essence of my being. I change subtly, not for their convenience or approval. It takes time, to admit, to accept, Formulate and be at peace with myself The box notwithstanding. It might remain forever, the box. I am just jigsawing the hell out of it, Till the puzzle settles, And I jumble it all over again. This is my gift to you, No secret – if you decide, it will forever be Ephemeral.
Musical Pairing with this Poem
Thank you for this amazing prompt Bradley Ramsey :), I already had a poem titled ‘Name’ on the topic of identity, sharing the link below, but this was really fun to attempt.
Sharing the Power up Prompt post below:
